The Space Station Murders

A Novella by: A.M. Roelke

Genre: Sci-fi Mystery

Release: May 2011

Editor: Anne Duguid

Line editor: Penny Ehrenkranz

Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans

Word count: 20218

Pages: 69

ISBN: 978-1-926931-73-9

Price: $3.50

Warning: Limited language and violence 

Blurb:

An ex-cop on a space station struggles to overcome alcoholism and the death of his partner. Against his better judgement, he befriends a station newbie, and the two begin to investigate the murder of their fellow homeless space station residents.

Excerpt:

Ahead, a fight.

A long, loping run took Herbert to the fracas. Three thugs—the Jensen brothers—wailing on a smaller guy, curly hair. He was giving as good as he got, but with three to one, the odds were obvious.

Herb slammed a fist into the eldest Jensen’s ribs, hooked a leg around his, and pulled him down. Trod over him and tackled the next guy in the pack, the biggest Jensen, leaving Curly with only one opponent. Curly, breathing hard, trying not to double over, blew on his fists, rocked side to side, and clocked his opponent a left hook.

Herb smashed the giant’s face a few times, dodged the return blows; he was too fast for the giant’s fists, so the giant lunged forward to tackle him.  He sidestepped and caught the guy from behind, jumping on his back.  They both toppled to the floor. By the time he’d gotten loose, the oldest Jensen was getting up, the one Curly had been fighting was down, and both Curly and his opponent had a busted lip.

“Molloy,” growled the biggest Jensen, picking up a pipe hidden beneath the park bench and smacking it into his palm. He advanced on Herb, murder in his eyes.

“Time to go, kid,” said Herb Molloy, voice rising. “Street fight looking to turn into a homicide fest.”

The kid kicked the approaching thug in the back of his knees and took off running, scuffed sneaker soles flashing behind him. He ran all out, the way he’d fought; Herb was behind him the whole way, even when he put on a burst of speed.

They stopped three streets down, leaned against a shop wall (Spaceship Repairs), and panted. “Thanks,” said the kid, doubled over, holding his side. He spat phlegm in the alley, stood up, and offered his hand.

Herb looked at it a second, took it. Most street folks didn’t offer to shake hands.

“Zack Ives,” said the kid.

“Herb Molloy.” He eyed the kid, who wasn’t as small as he’d looked fighting the Jensens. He was almost Herb’s height and not as young as Herb first thought. Ives moved with youthful energy, but the lines around his eyes said he was probably closer to Herb’s age.

He wore ratty jeans, blue sneakers, and a flannel shirt that had seen better days.  His eyes flashed dark blue, and his hair was the unruly kind that curls naturally, getting bigger and bigger if you didn’t do some serious pruning. He hadn’t for a while. His tanned, olive skin and his accent marked him as someone from a planet, not a native space rat.

“You new to the station?” said Herb, drawing back from the firm handshake.

“Yeah. What’s it to you?” The kid drew back too, eyes narrowing as if he wanted another fight.

“If you weren’t, you’d know to stay away from that bench. That’s Jensen territory after 1200.”

“Military man, huh?” said Ives.

“I was,” said Herb, wondering at the kid’s nerve. “Come on, I’ll show you a place where the homeless aren’t quite so territorial.” He turned; with loping steps, he headed toward the bridge.

“I’m not perpetually homeless, you know. I’m gonna get a job.” He caught up to Herb.

“Yeah, you and everyone else. Look, you don’t have to prove anything to me, kid.”

“Okay. Sorry.” He was silent a moment, jogging alongside Herb, still sending off jittery vibes from the fight. “Tried to buy passage to Magnus, you know. Supposed to be work there. I just got off Marshall. Job market’s bust. Thought I had enough for a ticket here and then to Magnus, but they said the price has gone up. Then somebody stole my dough when I was sleeping, so now I gotta try and find a job here. I mean, I didn’t come here just to take advantage of the park benches.”

“Nobody does.” Homelessness was a huge problem on stations, though, just like in casino cities. The weather was nice, and you could lose all your money easily and not have anywhere else to go.

“I can drive a cab, but I guess there’s not much use for that up here.” He gestured vaguely to the wide, metal walls of the space station. “I didn’t think it’d smell quite so bad in space. Aren’t they supposed to recycle the air? Clean it or something?”

“They do. They never get all the smell out, though. Everything’s reused up here.” He found himself slowing his speech a little, perhaps for contrast to the quick-talking Ives, perhaps in an effort to calm the kid down.

“Yeah. How ’bout that? I mean, you can’t get a drink of water without it being somebody’s recycled pee.”

“It is on planets, too. Everything is. Just not recycled quite as directly.”

“Hey, I never thought of it like that.” By now the kid sounded quite cheerful. He was practically skipping as he kept up easily with Herb’s pace. He would be a talker, thought Herb.

“Here it is.” He stopped in front of the bridge, a real bridge over a small, artificial stream segment. It was meant for station beautification, but the homeless had pretty well claimed it—at least after dark, when the cops stopped patrolling to keep them away. Already, a few of the regulars were setting up camp.

“Listen, I’ve got stuff to do. Take care of yourself.”

“Okay.  Hey, thanks! See you around!” The curly haired kid (why did he keep thinking of Ives as a kid?) turned a big smile on him and waved. Herb raised a hand in brief reply, blinking. Time he got out of there.

Reviews:

MEET THE AUTHOR

Customer Reviews:

Herb is an ex-cop, driven to drink and isolation when his partner is killed. He's reduced to living on the streets; he's homeless in space. Not so easy to get somewhere else if you're too broke to rent a place to live.rnrnAlong comes a newbie to the space station, who Herb rescues from a gang of street bullies. The hyper-active young man, Zack, obviously needs some taking care and Herb takes him under his wing to show him the ropes of living homeless in space.rnrnThis is particularly important since someone is killing street people. Zack encourages Herb to investigate and wants to join him in the search for the murderer.rnrnThe focus here is less on the murders, than on the growing friendship of Herb and Zack. They make an unlikely pair, but, like the Odd Couple, strangely seem to fit.rnrnYes, they solve the murders, but I suspect that Herb and Zack will go on being an investigative team, getting to the heart of crimes committed in space.rnrnA good, fast read. I recommend it.